


Automation

by Disworl



Category: Scott Pilgrim (Comics), Scott Pilgrim - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-typical Unhealthy Relationships, Character Study, Community: 100fandoms, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Identity, Psychological Drama, Ramona Flowers-centric, relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:35:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27688370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Disworl/pseuds/Disworl
Summary: She just keeps running and running.
Relationships: Ramona Flowers/Gideon Graves, Ramona Flowers/Lucas Lee, Ramona Flowers/Matthew Patel, Ramona Flowers/Roxy Richter, Ramona Flowers/Scott Pilgrim
Kudos: 8
Collections: 100 Fandoms Challenge, Author's Favourites





	Automation

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this out of frustration for how Ramona’s character was handled (or more accurately, _wasn’t_ ) in canon. If that doesn’t sound like your cuppa, now’s the time to head back.

“You got any bright ideas?” Scott asks. The blood from his wound is splattered all over his chest, but Ramona just can’t stop looking at Gideon. The man she once thought she could truly be with, until it was clear he’d lost all interest the moment they were actually together. And now it’s crystal clear that they were never really together to begin with.

“Just the usual one,” she replies, and time slows down to seconds, and Scott’s shouting something, but she can only think about how this entire venture was a mistake, that her biggest regret was thinking she could outrun herself –

– and then there’s a sickening crack, and it’s coming from her, because Gideon’s sword has just pierced her breastbone, and then it’s gone and she’s wheezing on the floor.

* * *

Before she even hooks up with Matthew she knows it’s a bad idea. She’s dating him specifically for what he is _not_ – a jock, white – and she’s smart enough to know that a relationship born from undesirable competition is not one to last. She does it anyway. All the jocks want to chase her despite her not knowing any of them, so she gives them a race. The first (and only) kiss with Matthew feels like a performance, with all of them watching, and she has to admit in the heat of the moment that he’s a very good actor for his role.

Unfortunately, the problem with a performance is that the actors disband once the show’s over.

* * *

She’s at some gala in New York.

She’s at some gala in New York, and life’s not quite working out for her like she wanted it to.

Her outfit tonight’s simple, understated. Bubblegum pink hair, let down and natural. A matching top with a hood. She looks chic, she knows she does, she’s got the record of suitors to prove it, and when she got dressed for the event she didn’t look in the mirror.

She glances around, a face in the crowd, and lands on a man with rectangular glasses and a white jacket talking to two people in front of her. She’s not close enough to hear what he’s saying.

Later in the night, just about when she thinks she’ll leave, the same man walks up to her. There’s a look in his eyes as he approaches her, and he’s not bad looking, and so she thinks she could stand to do _something_ about the stall her life has come to.

“You’re not from here,” he says. “Your eyes… they’ve seen things.”

He threads a hand through her hair, and she thinks that what’s in his eyes might just be recognition instead of the distanced admiration she’s curated for herself her entire life. It’s terrifying, but also exhilarating and maybe a bit relieving and –

– and that seals the deal.

* * *

She dates Roxie because she figures that since her track record with men has been so scattershot, why not try shacking up with a girl? Specifically her roommate, who’s got cute blonde pigtails and a damnable smile, and wouldn’t it be _so convenient_ if it turns out that all she needed was to bat for the other team?

It starts out well. That’s something she clings to throughout. They already know each other fairly well, so it’s not hard to transition from friendly little sparring matches to making out and groping. There’s a bit of ease that comes with that familiarity.

And yet, that’s exactly what ends it, too. When Roxie looks at her one morning while Ramona’s busy pouring herself cereal, and something snaps. There’s just something, _something_ sharp and close and knowing in her gaze, and Ramona almost feels the urge to throw herself out of the window if only to escape the feeling of being hunted and pinned down that’s growing in her chest.

She breaks up with Roxie that week, gets a new place when the other girl’s out at class, and spends the rest of college avoiding her by any means possible. It’s just as well, because they’re close to graduating, anyway. The relationship wasn’t ever going to last longer than that.

* * *

There’s a light always shining in her head, bringing in stark clarity every little wrong thing she’s ever said or done, every broken, bleeding inch of herself – which Gideon calls the glow, his prodigal weapon that made him a killing, his magnum opus (so far). To Ramona the glow feels like being a fish in water. If anything, it’s putting physicality to a brokenness that’s made a home in her bones for years.

Gideon hits her with it on a Friday evening after leaning in for a kiss. It’s been some time since he even paid her a modicum of attention, so she leapt at the chance, and fool that she was, didn’t think about _why_ he would make a show of intimacy in the first place.

After that first night, he doesn’t try to get closer to her, instead he keeps her at the distance she usually has to work to keep herself. She’s exactly where she wants to be. Except, even with all the distance she puts, she’s forced to realize that none of it really matters if there’s not someone trying to close it.

Someone has to bend.

She relentlessly analyzes Gideon in the brief spans where she’s with him in meaningful capacity. Meaningful, of course, is a rather subjective word, at least for him. She tries whatever she can to get any sort of reaction from him, but any of her ‘successes’ are without rhyme or reason. That doesn’t stop her from still trying, though. And doesn’t that mean something? That she’s the one chasing, the one obsessed for a change. Love requires dedication. Love requires a desire for intimacy. It’s more than anyone else she’s dated has gotten.

And, of course, the glow constantly whispering in the back of her head: _the only t_ _hing you’re_ _doing here is getting a taste for the other side._

* * *

She hears of Lucas complaining about her pretending to be ‘little miss perfect’ while she’s dating Todd, and it doesn’t even phase her, partly because it’s not really even true. She positions herself at an arm’s length away and then some from others – far enough for it to take effort to close distance but close enough to seem reachable – and guys can’t help but see perfection because they’re looking without glasses, and she lets them.

The one that got away. If anything, that’s what she’s playing at, if she were really ‘playing’ at anything at all. She’s on autopilot, except that doesn’t quite describe it, it’s more like she’s running on instinct, feet flying fast enough that if she pretends it’s like she never touches the ground.

She’s got the ever-changing hairstyle, the clothes to go with it, the wit, the backstory, and a thousand versions of herself in her head because they always lose their shine after a month or so, and the only thing she knows how to do is make another one.

She strung Lucas along because he’s annoying snot-nosed brat, and the only reason she dated him instead of rejecting every other man that’s chased after her is because she _ha_ _d_ rejected him 95 times and he asked her out a 96th. So she doesn’t feel bad about it, because really, with that kind of tally, he should’ve really seen it coming.

* * *

Scott Pilgrim is a bit of an oddity.

He doesn’t get why she keeps correcting ‘ex-boyfriends’ to ‘exes’, gets embarrassed at the fact that she used to smoke, hasn’t heard of subspace highways, is stupidly childish in one moment, and ingratiatingly sincere in another.

He’s simple, for the lack of a better word.

He hasn’t heard of her, and the most he seems to be worried about is playing in his band. She figures she could at least get to know him after using his head as a shortcut for her delivery routes. After Gideon, a simple relationship sounds like a relief.

She thinks she could stand to play the nice girl, for a change.

* * *

She can hear something final in the snip of the scissors. Her new haircut is sharp and a little bit odd, a harsh contrast to her former long flowing locks. She looks like a stranger to herself. She likes it. It feels like taking herself back, bit by bit. She tries not to think of the fact that who she _is_ isn’t great. She’s been held down by Gideon for too long, and frankly, if there’s anything she should know to do, it’s to cut and run.

The scrawl of pen against paper is a soft contrast against the New York ambience. She’s not quite sure why she’s writing a final letter – maybe she kind of owes him for it (despite everything). It’s more than anything anyone else got.

She’s licking the envelope shut when Gideon bursts into the room. But it’s too late, the glow’s calling her to subspace ( _like a fish in water_ ) – and he’s saying something about her hair, but the only thought that comes to her is: _he’s_ _finally_ _running_.

**Author's Note:**

> 001/100 for the 100 Fandoms Challenge. Written for prompt 87 – run.


End file.
